Chapter 56

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Ryan woke up with a headache again the next morning. True, it wasn't quite as bad as yesterday's bass drums, drilling-jackhammer, bang-your-head-against-the-wall headache, but it still wasn't fun. After getting dressed, he went downstairs and pulled himself onto at stool at the counter, slumping his head against the cool marble.

"Good morning to you too."

He jumped awake at Shelby's voice, wincing as he did so. "Mom. Hi Mom. Good morning Mom."

"Hmmm." Shelby slid a plate of toast in front of him. "It seems we need to have a talk."

"I know," Ryan sighed. "I shouldn't have had the party the other night, since we were all underage and there weren't any adults in the house. It was stupid and reckless and very inconsiderate to the neighbors, to whom I shall be apologizing. I shouldn't have let Puck and Santana pressure me into hosting a party here, especially since you trusted me alone in the house for the weekend. I'm sorry I broke your trust, and I'm extremely sorry that I had a drinking party here, especially since I still have a hangover."

Shelby raised her eyebrow as he rambled on. "Are you done?" He nodded. "Good. Since you seem to have lectured yourself, we'll skip that part."

"Wait, what?"

"You seem to have covered the major points of what needed to be said, and I hope that this incident will not be repeated." Ryan shook his head, staring at her. It couldn't be that easy, could it? "Now, your dad told me that he issued two weeks of grounding. Now, aside from the grounding, you're also going to communicate to me extensively the effects of alcohol, why underage drinking is prohibited, and exactly why what you did was wrong. Essay form, 3000 words."

"3000 words –"

"5000," Shelby said, cutting him off before he could get any further. "Keep going and it'll be seven. I suggest you stop." She paused for a moment to see if he would push it. He didn't. "Good."

Ryan stared at her. He hated writing essays like the plague, and 5000 words? He could barely write 2000 for school without running out of things to say – surprising, when he was usually orally verbose – so how was he supposed to come up with 5000? "You're evil, you know I hate writing."

"Then hopefully this gets the lesson to stick."

..

"So you're all grounded for the next week?" Mr. Schue stared at the glee club disbelievingly. The hungover group of students were all wearing sunglasses, some of them wincing at his loud voice as they sat in the choir room. "What about after school rehearsals?"

About half the club shook their heads, their parents having made it clear that there were to be no extracurricular activities. "Well, I'm grounded, but it doesn't matter," Puck shrugged.

Mr. Schue shook his head. "What happened?"

"Ryan had a party at his house while Miss Corcoran was away," Lauren answered.

"And he didn't tell us his dad was going to be there at midnight," Mercedes grumbled, rubbing at her forehead. "So his dad came and called all our parents."

"Do you realize what you guys just did?" Mr. Schue said angrily, staring at Ryan. "Regionals is in less than three weeks, we need every bit of rehearsal time we can get. Not to mention, any of you drinking is illegal. I'm very disappointed, Ryan."

Santana raised her hand slowly. "It's not all his fault, okay, Puck and I brought the booze."

"You shouldn't have done that," Mr. Schue said in disapproval. "But Ryan, you held the party, you should have been responsible enough to keep the alcohol out."

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